


Jump On Harper Day

by Basingstoke



Category: Andromeda
Genre: Character of Color, First Time, M/M, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-08-12
Updated: 2002-08-12
Packaged: 2017-10-03 18:51:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Basingstoke/pseuds/Basingstoke





	Jump On Harper Day

"Andromeda, how are you feeling?" Harper asked as he jogged along looking for Tyr.

"Bumped. Bruised. I could use some attention."

"Anything critical?"

"No..."

"Okay. Find me Tyr?"

Andromeda sighed. "He'll be coming through that door in front of you in less than a second."

Harper stopped in his tracks and waited. Sure enough... "Tyr!"

"Harper, unless we are in immediate danger of death, it can wait," Tyr said, striding down the hall at top speed and holding his hair away from his neck.

"No, wait, hold up, I'm here to assist!" Harper ran after him.

"In what way?"

"Handheld electromagnet," Harper said, pulling it out of his tool belt. "In other words, a machine that can grab those little metal splinters right out of your hair piece by piece."

Tyr stopped. "I want to minimize the damage..."

"Set it on low and we don't have to cut through any more hair than absolutely necessary. Come on, I'll help you." Harper wiggled his fingers seductively.

Tyr raised his eyebrow. "Thank you."

*

They set up on Tyr's bed. Nudge the switch, wait for the splinter to wiggle out, move the magnet over the bowl, switch back to null to drop the splinter. Move on to the next one and repeat.

"I'm surprised you have the patience for this," Tyr said.

"My job isn't all glitz and glamour, you know. The main part of it? Is checking that fifty square miles of cables, circuits, bulkheads and coolant chambers are all working the way that they're supposed to. If I were easily bored, I would have killed myself years ago." He thought about that, dropping another set of splinters into the bowl. "Or, you know, found a new job."

"I see." Tyr shifted, crossing his legs.

Tyr's chain mail was finer and his hair was heavier than Harper had expected. The braids were like fuzzy rope, but glossy and spicy-musky--perfumed, or oiled. He could see that. Tyr was the vainest person he knew. "Besides, you sure as hell *smell* better than engineering. Even High Guard circuitry gets that lovely Eau De Smoking Metal."

"Ah, so that's what that smell is," Tyr said, turning to Harper with a half smile.

"I figure it's a protective measure. If I ever get lost, you can sniff me down. Come *on*, you little bastard, come to Daddy..." Harper wiggled the magnet, tugging at a recalcitrant shard. "Hah! It's all about the small victories." He dropped the shard in the bowl.

*

Several hours later, Harper's shoulders hurt from holding up the magnet and his knees hurt from kneeling, but Tyr's hair was free of shards. Half a pound of tiny little pieces of exploded metal sat in the bowl on the table by the bed. Harper was giving the braids one last going-over with the magnet, making sure he hadn't missed any specks.

"I think you're clean." Harper slumped back, rolling his shoulders. "Oof."

"Thank you." Tyr took Harper's hand in his own and rubbed it.

"Oh, no problem, brothers in arms, crewmates and stuff and you can *keep* doing that just as long as you want." Harper slid onto his side. The excitement of the battle was catching up to him. Plus petting. Tyr had awesome hands, rough and strong.

Tyr rolled Harper over onto his stomach and rubbed his shoulders. It hurt for a second, but then...oh, man, it was like his whole anatomy was being rearranged. In a good way. In a real good way. Harper groaned in his throat.

"Hm." Tyr pressed his way down Harper's back, one vertebra at a time. Harper whimpered. "You're wound up like a spring."

"That's how I get my bounce." Harper dug his fingers into the mattress and wriggled, feeling his body shiver into place under Tyr's hands.

"This explains a great deal about you." Tyr rubbed the heels of his hands up and down Harper's spine.

Harper flattened out slowly. "So...you going to go feel up the whole crew? I bet...Beka would let you, but Dylan might say no."

"It would depend on how I worded my invitation, I suspect. Trance would be interesting. I would have liked to examine her tail more closely."

"Her tail...hee!" Harper wiggled, feeling good. Harper Junior pressing into the mattress, also good. "Her tail, yeah. It was prehensile. She liked to play little tricks with it."

"Tricks?"

"Oh...you know...stealing tools, tapping me in the back while standing in front of me, that kind of thing..." Harper panted a little as Tyr stroked his lower back. "Not. You know. The other kind of tricks. I should be so lucky."

Tyr dropped down onto Harper and pressed his mouth to the nape of Harper's neck. Harper gasped; he could feel Tyr's chain mail through the layers of shirts, feel his gun belt and his dick, feel his hands sliding over Harper's belly and under his shirts. Empty belly--that still felt weird, and weirder to know that Tyr knew pretty much exactly how he felt, so there was a kind of bond between them and *GOD* he had *good hands*--

Tyr kissed his way up Harper's neck, supporting himself on one elbow as he tugged at Harper's shirts with the other. "Let me up a sec," Harper panted, "it's a thing, it's connected..." Tyr knelt up and Harper rolled off the bed and started squirming out of his clothes.

Belt, gone, and Tyr's chain mail flying over his head, and then he unzipped his coverall as Tyr swung his feet over the side of the bed to undo his boots, which reminded Harper to sit up and undo his own boots before trying to take off the coverall, and then Tyr's boots were off and Harper's boots were off and Tyr was standing over him dropping his pants.

"Nice underwear," Harper said, wondering if he could see his face in the shiny black material. Tyr's nostrils flared and he dropped to his knees, grabbing the legs of Harper's coverall; Harper squirmed out of the sleeves and Tyr dragged them off. Harper just had his *other* shirt then--and as he pulled that over his head, Tyr pulled his shorts down his legs. Then *he* was naked and Tyr was, oh man, Tyr was standing up and peeling down that shiny black material and showing off that freaking *perfect* genetically engineered naked body--but wait, not naked, still had the gauntlets on, and that was, well, just kinky enough that Harper had to grab himself.

Because Nietzscheans. He didn't make a habit of sleeping with them. In fact, Tyr was the first.

Tyr inhaled deeply, closed his eyes and shook himself.

Then he pulled Harper back onto the bed and took Harper's cock in his mouth without a pause. Then *hot* and *tongue* and *skin* and *hair*--Tyr's hair sliding over his belly and thighs felt like nothing else, felt like a thousand little slick fingers, felt like pleasure prickle points--and hands pressing into his thighs, rough hands moving and cradling him--

Sensation poured through him and the only response was to press his head into the mattress and come.

He lolled for a little bit. Limp was a good thing, limp was a thing he hadn't been for a while now. Tyr was rubbing his cheek against Harper's and stroking various part of his body--his hair, his nose, his nipple, whatever, just playing--which was cool.

"Normally I'm better than this," Harper muttered.

"I'm choosing to take it as a compliment," Tyr murmured into his throat.

Look at that, he could move. He could cup that Ubercock--funny, he was expecting something *weird*, like spikes, but it felt pretty normal--in his nimble little fingers and show Tyr why Andromeda kept praising his repair skills... And Tyr *liked* that. He tossed his head back and gave Harper a look that was almost a fire hazard before curling into him, hand seizing Harper's knee and mouth sealing over Harper's mouth and cock pushing eagerly into Harper's active hands.

Of *course* Tyr could kiss like a demon. He wouldn't have expected anything different. So Harper channeled all those good feelings down into his hands and gave Tyr some good feelings of his own. He liked to think of it as a circuit: giving and getting, sending the goodness around for another turn.

It was like fucking a thunderstorm. He almost felt like he should be scared--except this was *Tyr*, and if Tyr thought he should be dead, then he would be dead, so he obviously *didn't* think so and there was nothing to be worried about. It was just that Tyr crackled with energy and with power; he surged over Harper...like the ocean. Like the ocean! Fucking Tyr was exactly like surfing. That was it. You didn't fight the wave--there *was* no fighting the wave--but there was approaching the wave and riding the wave and having a hell of a nice time with the wave, while it lasted.

Tyr folded over Harper, pushing his hand into Harper's thigh and his cock into Harper's hand and his forehead into the mattress beside Harper's head, and shot over Harper's belly with a muffled bellow straight from the gut.

Then there was some snuggling, and some sleeping.

*

"I thought Nietzscheans were all about...you know, husbands and wives." Harper was playing with Tyr's nipple. It refused to remain erect. Harper was becoming mildly offended.

"We are. What's your point?"

"I hate to break it to you, but I'm not going to have your baby. I've got a career, you know?" He leaned in and bit the nipple lightly, daring it to go flat again.

Tyr pushed Harper's head away. "Marriage is the most important thing there is. Nothing else compares. But if you'll stop and think... I do not have a wife. I reached puberty quite some time ago. My situation is not uncommon. But as a man, I have needs that are dangerous to ignore--"

"Sure, your head could explode. Plus hairy palms."

"What?" Tyr frowned.

"Earth thing. No, I got it. Nietzscheans are cauldrons of desire that not infrequently spill over into cauldrons with the same parts that they have--mmmf."

Tyr's hand was clamped over his mouth. "*Quiet.*" He licked Harper's belly. Harper wriggled encouragingly.

"Harper!" Andromeda broke in. "I need you."

"Everyone needs me!" Harper called back.

"I have an overloading circuit--"

"Ah, crap, I'm on my way, hold your horses, later, Tyr!" Harper rolled out of bed and started tracking down his clothes.

"Tomorrow," Tyr said.

Harper made the mistake of looking at him, lounging propped up on his elbows on the bed--and put his shorts on inside out. "Tomorrow. Yeah. Just try and keep me away." Somehow he got his coverall and boots on in the right order and stumbled out into the hallway--where Rommie was waiting for him.

"Are you well?" she asked. "You seem unsteady. I could carry you."

"I'm fine, I'm just, whoa!" He tripped over his untied lace. "Just tripping over my own feet. Nothing to see here, carry on."

He sat up to tie his boots and Rommie picked him up in a fireman's carry. "Rommie! A little dignity here!"

"I'm sorry, Harper, but Andromeda is insisting."

He watched the floor go by. "What is this, Jump On Harper Day?"

She patted his butt. "No. That's tomorrow."

"Hey. Hey!"

*


End file.
